Let Me Walk
by anjumstar
Summary: "She would be the talk of the town for a while, she knew. She'd been the town's gossip fodder a few times since she'd moved to Pallet after finishing up school and, well, at least she wouldn't have to be privy to it this time. In fact, she wasn't even going to think about it. With each dusty stride forward, Delia was determined to forget everything about Pallet Town." Pre-canon


**Let Me Walk**

 **Setting:** Pre-canon.

 **Pairings:** None, but you can read this as ElderShipping if you so desire.

 **Rating:** K for mentions of depression.

* * *

 _"_ _Just let me walk_

 _This road alone_

 _And leave this life behind me_

 _I will not call this past my own_

 _So tell me why has it defined me?_

 _It won't define me_

 _Go on leave me alone!"_

- _Alone_ , B. Ryback

Maybe she could be a model. Either that or a Trainer. If it turned out that she was too old or too fat or too skinny to be a model, maybe she'd try training as a backup. Honestly, she probably wasn't too old—she was barely in her twenties—but she didn't know much about these things. And who knew, maybe she could do both. Traveling as a Trainer would probably help get her body back in shape too.

Although, she'd hardly made it a few houses down her street before starting to sweat in the midday sun—when it was at its least forgiving. It was telling her that it could see straight through her floppy gardening hat that she'd worn, hoping to protect herself from the worst of it. And that she probably needed to get back in shape before she tried being a Trainer _or_ a model.

It was times like these that Delia really wished that anyone in Pallet owned a car. Not that she'd ever be able to afford one, even in the event that they were commonplace. Heck, she'd be thrilled with just a bike. She'd travel faster _and_ get the workout that she'd be missing with a car. But she couldn't afford one of those either.

So she was left with her running shoes, her old hiking backpack, and a suitcase. She quickly realized how long it had been since she had traveled at all. Her lack of experience smacked at her heels as she kicked up dirt and pebbles off the road and into her shoes. She should have worn higher socks.

It didn't matter. She upped her pace and gripped her suitcase, determined not to stop until she reached Viridian City, even if it took days.

It was just about noon and Delia suspected that most of the townsfolk would be eating lunch or working. Probably not too many people would be out in the heat of the day in the middle of the summer as the sun slapped the roofs of the squat houses that made up Pallet Town's residential neighborhood. They had no idea that by the time they were washing their dishes, Delia Ketchum would be long gone.

She would be the talk of the town for a while, she knew. She'd been the town's gossip fodder a few times since she'd moved to Pallet after finishing up school and, well, at least she wouldn't have to be privy to it this time. In fact, she wasn't even going to think about it. With each dusty stride forward, Delia was determined to forget everything about Pallet Town. Anything just to start over fresh.

The edge of town was still out of sight when Delia's right arm began to get sore, pulling the largest suitcase she owned with her heavy backpack pressing down on her shoulders. She could feel the pressure on her spine, pressing the discs painfully on each other. She switched which hand was grasping the suitcase, all she could do to alleviate her discomfort, at least momentarily, before it just flipped to her other side. Maybe she never would have been cut out to be a Trainer. If she wasn't even out of town and already felt fatigued. Of course, Trainers tended to pack lighter than she had today.

It was then that Delia spotted another person coming down the main road, right toward her and she felt needles go through her bloodstream. She'd miscalculated. She shouldn't have gone with the main road. The only other option was dragging her heavy suitcase through the grass as she arced around the outskirts of town—a much longer, slower journey—but her odds of running into someone would have been slim to none.

As the figure came into shape, Delia gasped, knowing that silhouette all too well, and she darted off the road and into someone's yard. Probably someone she knew. Her suitcase almost toppled over onto its front, but she managed to muscle it back under her command and drag it—perhaps a little too noisily—to the side of the house to hide.

Then, slowly, so as not to make any noise, Delia began to creep to the back of the house, ducking under the windows, just on the off-chance that her bad luck continued and the house's residents felt like taking a gander out the window. She had a feeling that the town would start gossiping about her a little sooner if she were found trespassing on someone's lawn in the middle of the day.

She was almost around the corner when she felt two taps on her shoulder, and nearly leapt onto the roof of the house. It took all of her self-control not to scream, although her suitcase did drop to the ground with a _thwack_ , scattering dust-like dirt from the dry grass.

"Professor Oak," Delia squeaked, heat searing her face as she turned to face him.

The professor, of course, looked nonplussed.

"Delia," he greeted with a nod. "What brings you out and about today?"

Delia was stopped short, cocking her head at her old teacher. What brought her _out and about_? Was he not going to comment on her bags or her, well, obvious attempt to hide from him?

"I, uh, er…I have errands to run in Viridian."

For a second, Delia felt like Professor Oak was staring her down but then, to her relief, he nodded, seeming to accept her unelaborate answer.

"Wonderful. I was forgetful enough not to order more medicine for some sick Pokémon, so I had to pick up at least enough for today until I can get a bulk delivery tomorrow." Professor Oak lifted the bag he had in hand into view whilst smacking himself on the forehead. "Silly me."

"Oh," Delia intoned, trying to laugh along, but it came out unnatural and forced.

"Well, seeing as neither of us are going to visit Mrs. Wood," Professor Oak began as he reached down to grab the handle of Delia's toppled suitcase, "might I suggest we abandon her lawn for the road?"

Professor Oak gestured to the dirt path and, embarrassed, Delia hid her face in the shade of her hat's wide brim and led the way back to the road.

"How long do you imagine your trip to be, Delia? Six days?"

Delia swallowed, working a passing smile onto her face. "Probably. About."

"Well, it feels as though you've packed enough for a month!" Professor Oak chuckled, lifting her suitcase a bit and pretending to struggle under the weight.

"I guess I'm just out of practice with packing," Delia offered weakly.

Professor Oak nodded again. Then he said, "You know, I don't remember my son mentioning that he'd have Ash for that long. He and Gary are playing right now, aren't they?"

The simple question was all it took to knock the wind out of Delia, the words smacking into her abdomen, the pointed edges almost physically hurting.

"Yes," she managed to choke out, trying to keep up a believable front. She'd always wanted to be a model, yes, but never an actress. She didn't know how a person could telegraph a feeling that wasn't real when it was all she could do to keep her own feelings from bursting out at every second. "I'm sure that I, uh, mentioned the length of my trip."

"Hmm," Professor Oak considered. "Perhaps he just didn't manage to tell me yet."

"That must be it," Delia quickly agreed.

Professor Oak gazed out along Pallet Town, tapping his foot absently in the silence. Delia could see beads of sweat forming in his sideburns; he was obviously hot. Why didn't he just give her back her suitcase and let her leave? Didn't he have sick Pokémon he needed to medicate?

"How's the restaurant going?" he finally asked.

Delia felt the tiny ball of panic in her stomach begin to grow. Why wasn't he leaving her alone?

"Fine."

The professor looked at her with concern. "Really? I know that it's been a tough year for you."

That had been the most recent time that Delia had been in the whispers of town grapevine. She knew her husband was about ten years too late to be leaving home in the pursuit of being a Pokémon Master but she had hardly been about to stand in the way of his dreams. And sure, it had made things more difficult. Suddenly she was the sole breadwinner of the house, having to juggle owning a restaurant with being the mother of a little boy.

The Oaks had been a big help, offering to take care of Ash with Gary whenever the load got too heavy but how was one supposed to know when that was? Surely there were always hard days—one could count on that. But there were hard days and then there were…

Delia noticed a tickle on the bridge of her nose and went to scratch at it, only to realize it was wet. She hadn't even felt the few rogue tears escape and tried to brush them away with as much grace as possible.

"Delia?" Professor Oak asked, new concern coloring his voice.

"Don't make me feel worse about this than I already do," Delia whispered finally.

"Worse about what?"

Delia shook her head, feeling that the words might poison her. They'd been feeding her action, powering her arms as she packed, her feet as she walked, but she'd hardly dared form the thought into words. Voicing them would turn her into some person that she wouldn't be able to recognize.

But they were threatening to spill out. They were like a cesspool, bubbling, and Delia had to block each bubble with her hands as they burst and burned. The indecision pressed down on her mind, leaving her paralyzed. She couldn't speak, she couldn't move, only stare at the ground as her eyes began to choke with water.

"Delia," Professor Oak pressed, placing an arm on her shoulder.

The gesture broke her.

"I _can't_ ," she gasped, eventually. "The restaurant is failing. I spend all day there and I still can't support us. I can't. I can't be his mother. I can't do it anymore."

"Delia." She could feel Professor Oak trying to draw her eyes. His grip had strengthened on her shoulder and his voice had an urgency in it that hadn't been there before. "Delia, don't tell me that you're leaving your son."

She couldn't say anything. She could only cry harder, the weight on her shoulders suddenly becoming more than that of her backpack, but the weight of having been a teen mother, of a husband leaving, of owning a business. As if the ground was growing soft with her tears and soon she'd be heavy enough to sink right in.

"Delia, Ash can't lose his father and then his mother. The boy doesn't deserve that."

"I _know_ ," Delia sobbed. "He deserves the world. He doesn't deserve to have to have _me_ as a mother."

In a last moment of conviction, Delia snatched her suitcase out of Professor Oak's hand and continued her way down the road.

She knew better than to think that he wouldn't follow her. But in the few seconds that it took Professor Oak to regain his wits and catch up, Delia had dared to hope. But she felt that strong grip on her arm and she couldn't shake it off without losing her suitcase to him again as well, so she was forced to stop.

"Don't make me go back," Delia ground out, her voice stronger now, though her face was soaked with a salty combination of sweat and tears.

"I wasn't going to suggest that," Professor Oak stated, his voice sober as his grip loosened on her wrist. "Why don't we walk?"

Professor Oak didn't wait for her to catch up-mentally or physically-and began to walk in the direction away from his lab. Away from her house.

Cautiously, Delia caught up with him and they began walking side by side toward route 1.

Professor Oak was silent for a minute before saying, "I had no idea you were having so much trouble."

"Well...you know."

It was hardly an explanation. But the tears had exhausted her. The words had ruined her. If he wanted her to talk, he'd have to change the subject. Nevertheless, Oak seemed to understand what she meant.

"You were trying to hide it." He looked over at Delia and she just nodded forlornly. "Why don't we start with the restaurant?"

Delia shook her head. "I've been running it into the ground. Even with a waitress, I can't do it all on my own. But with a waitress, I can't turn a profit. And I used to have time to grow some of my own produce, but now…"

Professor Oak put his hand up, signaling that he understood. "You know, Delia, I really wish you would have asked for my help. Things didn't have to get to this point."

"Your family has already done so much for me," Delia stated, torn between feeling grateful and guilty. Mostly guilty. "If I asked for more I'd be…well, doing what I'm doing now."

"There's always more that can be done," Professor Oak disagreed. "I'm sure there's a way that we could have done more without taking Ash as our own."

Delia felt the tightness in her throat begin to come back. Her eyes felt dried out, but it was like there was no way her body was going to let her talk without making her sound like she was going to cry. "I just would have felt so bad and I…and I don't know how I could stand feeling worse than I already felt."

Of course, leaving her son made her feel worse. But not having to worry about if he was cared for, not having to see her husband's crazy black hair, forcing herself to forget...She could believe that it would be easier. If she didn't think about it at all...it was easier. She could live her life as a twenty-two year old, no one would assume that she had a kid, that she'd ever been married, and everything would be fine.

"I didn't realize you were so sad."

Delia dared to glance up at Professor Oak. His face was a little obscured by the wide brim of her hat, but she knew she saw guilt there. Maybe a different person would have felt moved, but Delia just felt like she'd failed. She didn't want Professor Oak, her greatest resource, her mentor, to feel bad because of the heinous thing that she was doing. She had wanted him to be spared. She had wanted everyone to be spared as she damned herself.

"Things have just been really hard since he left," Delia admitted. "And since I realized that he, you know, wouldn't be coming back."

She'd heard that rumor whispered in the streets soon after her husband had left. People wondering if he would come back, if they would get divorced, all kinds of theories. At first, Delia hadn't believed it; she'd figured people needed to get their entertainment from somewhere, and more of them than not, it was entirely in people's heads. But as weeks turned into months and contact became few and far between…there had been little left to imagine.

Professor Oak seemed lost in thought for a moment. Then he asked, "Have things been hard since Ash was born?"

That question surprised Delia, so much so that she looked up at Professor Oak in confusion. "I, uh, yes? I mean, no one tells you how hard it is to raise a baby and we—" her voice grew quiet. "We certainly weren't ready for it."

Professor Oak nodded, his face wearing the same expression as if he were collecting empirical data about a Pokémon. "Have you—forgive me for asking, Delia—but have you considered post-partum depression before?"

"What's that?"

"It's depression that happens after a woman gives birth. It's often called baby blues. Sometimes it lasts years."

Delia was stopped short. She couldn't imagine anything more cruel than a woman being plunged into depression after giving birth. But did that describe her?

"I-I don't know. I mean, I don't _think_ so…"

"You know, I'm having a thought," Professor Oak suddenly said. "What if I began a summer camp at the lab?"

"Professor Oak, that's too much," Delia said immediately. "Doing something on that scale just for me—"

"It wouldn't just be for you," Professor Oak interrupted. "Kids can play with the Pokémon, I can study their interactions, and parents will get some time to themselves while the kids are out of school. It sounds like everybody wins."

He was using a flippant tone, like this was an off the cuff conversation, and Delia was having none of it. She could tell what he was doing, trying to pacify her, and it wasn't going to work.

"You're not going to change my mind," Delia said quietly. "Ash would be too young for something like that and I could never pay for it."

Professor Oak waved the notion away. "People would pay what they can. Like I said, my studies would benefit from seeing how the Pokémon interact with the kids, so I'd be willing to expend some extra resources."

"So what are you saying?"

"I'm saying," Professor Oak stopped walking. By this point, they were most of the way out of town anyway. Delia could finally see the path to Viridian breaking through the trees. He took the suitcase pushed it her way, grabbing her hand and wrapping her fingers around the handle, "go. Leave, if that's what you have to do."

Delia looked down at the suitcase in confusion, then back at the Professor. "Professor Oak, I'm still not planning on coming back."

"I know," Professor Oak said. But it was said absentmindedly, as though he didn't understand what their whole conversation had been like at all. He was rooting through one of the larger pockets of his lab coat before switching to his pant pockets. Eventually, he seemed to find what he was looking for, exclaiming, "Ah! Here it is!"

It was a PokéBall. Delia's bemusement deepened as she watched the Professor enlarge the PokéBall and release it onto the path right in front of her.

Out came a Pokémon just a head shorter than her. Well, if it had a head. Its body was completely round, so—without a neck—the body was completely indistinguishable from the head. It was pink and white and had all kinds of frills over its body. Very cute, Delia decided, despite its intimidating size.

"This isn't a Chansey, is it?" Delia asked, noting the very Chansey-like egg pouched on the Pokémon's front.

Professor Oak shook his head. "No, this is a new Pokémon discovered by Professor Elm. It does evolve from Chansey, though. It's known as the happiness Pokémon. It's called Blissey."

"Blissey!" the Pokémon trilled.

Professor Oak extended the 'Ball to Delia, and said, "Take it. If you don't come back, you can send her to me through any Pokémon Center."

With the odd feeling that she was being tricked going through her mind, Delia hesitantly reached out and grabbed the 'Ball, feeling how unfamiliar one was in her hands. She didn't remember the last time she'd had a Pokémon in her possession. Uncertainly, she reached her hand out towards the smiling Blissey, saying, "Blissey, return."

Blissey easily went into the 'Ball, and Delia placed it in her pocket. The weight was new, kind of uncomfortable as it pressed against her thigh. She understood why most serious Trainers had 'Belts that they wore to hold their PokéBalls.

"Thank you," Delia said, though she didn't quite yet know what she'd been offered.

"Call if you need anything," Professor Oak said, waving as he turned around and began to walk the length of the town back to his lab.

For a moment, Delia watched him go, almost expecting him to turn around, say "Gotcha," and drag her back to pick up her son. But he did no such thing; he just walked away, carrying the medicine, presumably off to treat whichever Pokémon had been sick.

It was her lucky break. She'd been caught, yes, but caught and released. She was almost to route one and might be in Viridian in a couple days if she kept pace.

So with that, she tipped her suitcase and began her trek again. The road became steep, and it was tough to drag her bag up. Her body was leaning over at such an angle that she was basically parallel to the road, and she felt that new bulge in her pocket pressed uncomfortably into the crease of her hip. Eventually, she had to give up, stop midway up the hill and lean against her suitcase, just to keep it from sliding down.

With relief, she plucked the 'Ball out of her pocket and pressed the button, realizing she didn't have a signature cry or anything that most Trainers had when they let out a Pokémon. So she just watched silently as the round form of her new companion formed in front of her.

"Blissey!" she trilled again, seemingly happy to see Delia, despite having just met her minutes ago.

"Hi, Blissey," Delia began nervously. "Do you think, uh, would it be too much of a bother for you to help me with this?"

Delia gestured to the suitcase and Blissey instantly understood, waving her hands up and down, as though eager to get started.

With fresh determination, Delia grabbed her suitcase again and began heaving it up the hill, but now with a new force buoying it. Suddenly, the weight was cut in half, and became manageable.

Delia breathed a sigh of relief. She could do this.

And no one was going to stop her.

* * *

 _~8 years later_

The small crowd had dispersed long before Ash was out of sight, walking down that road Delia had trod so many years ago. Soon, Delia and Professor Oak were the only ones left.

"How are you holding up?"

Delia didn't answer for a second as she silently took stock of her feelings. There was some sadness, some loneliness, but also a good amount of pride. Her little boy was following his dream, after all.

"I'm okay, actually."

Professor Oak looked at her with concern. She didn't meet his eyes, still staring fixedly down the road, arms crossed. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." Delia nodded. "Yes. This isn't like—he'll come back. I'm certain of it."

"Let me walk you to your house, at least?"

Finally, Delia looked his way, smiling through the tears in her eyes. "That I'll allow. I'll even make you lunch."

Professor Oak rubbed his hands together, an excited look growing on his face. "Oh boy, Delia Ketchum's cooking. I can't wait."

The two of them took off together walking down the stretch of road from the lab to Delia's house, familiar from the years Ash and Gary had been trotted back and forth, the years of summer camps, the years since the death of Gary's parents.

The next day, Delia would tell Ash an anecdote about his father, who never returned. Three days to Viridian City. That ended up being one of the last things she heard from him. It's also how long the journey had taken her when she'd traveled it. It had only taken two days to get back. But she knew no matter how long she and Ash were separated, they'd always come back to each other.

She'd make sure of it.

* * *

 **A/N** : I just rewatched the pilot for this story and Gary and Ash don't know each other? "Well, you must be Ash." Lolwut? So I nixed that right away. And I know that canonically Professor Oak is 50, but that would mean that he and his child both would have to reproduce at approximately 20-years-old to produce a 10-year-old Gary in the first episode. And I don't really like Professor Oak having children that young, so I imagined both he and Gary's parents as being a little older here.

I know this isn't my usual brand of story (do I have a usual brand?) but I felt compelled to write it, inspired by the song that you see quoted in excerpt at the top. I hope someone likes it! Also, the only other Pokémon oneshot that I've published (outside of my alphabet challenge) was the very first one that I wrote! Six years ago! Aaah!


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